Page 4 of Claws of Death

The air reeks of betrayal more and more with every minute I ponder that, no matter if my father hadn’t committed treason and my mother hadn’t taken me away from the city, I’d have ended up here anyway, right beside Erina. And in a different life—a life where I wasn’t a Crow Queen—I might have been content in this exact place, at Erina’s side.

I might have never known what a monster he truly is, might not have seen past his handsome mask and his courtly manners. I’ve seen the true him, though, and there is no going back. I’ve seen the vile measures he is resorting to in order to establish more power, to gain more lands, more wealth. Thefriendshe’s made to make it happen.

A sideways glance at Ephegos makes my blood chill.

“You need to take her on a tour along the coast, Your Majesty,” Lady Andraya urges Erina with a conspiratorialexpression taking over her features that makes me wonder how well the two of them know each other.

Erina doesn’t give away any sign of familiarity. All he does is give a noncommittal nod before he waves her off, eyes already on the next noble waiting in line behind her.

“I’d love to,” I tell her as she curtseys once more before walking to the side door where the guards usher the guests out into the courtyard. Where they go from there, I can’t tell; my view is on the gardens and on the seemingly endless line of elaborately dressed lords and ladies waiting to bow to their king—and stare at the Milevishja heir.

“You’re not going anywhere near the ocean,” Erina murmurs as he tugs me closer, grasp tightening painfully around my fingers.

I want to tear my hand away, want to run down the stairs past the unassuming nobility of Tavras, and disappear to my room, but Ephegos has already taken a cautionary step closer, taking a stance at my side, and while he doesn’t need to touch me to lock me in place, it’s the symbolism of the gesture that is more reminder than anything that I am a prisoner here, not the admired fiancée of the Tavrasian king the crowd believes me to be.

Biting back the retort on my tongue, I lean closer to Erina, brushing my free hand over his unmovable fingers in a pretense-affectionate touch that sure gets his attention. In a flick of surprise, his eyes meet mine as I put on a smile I know will get me his full focus. “I want to see Kaira.” It’s a murmur, and for an outsider, it might appear like I am uttering words of undying love to my husband-to-be, but it’sa bold demand, for it won’t matter where Erina believes I should or shouldn’t be going if I manage to speak to my sister through our mind connection and we make a plan to get out of here. I just need to get close enough to her to make it work.

“You aren’t in a position to demand anything from me,” Erina responds with an equally deceptive smile, and I think I hear women fawning over the gesture as he brings his free hand to my cheek, stroking a thumb along the side of my face.

I hate him. More than I hate Ephegos. He could just let me go, make a contract with me that I will abstain from ever aspiring for my throne, and we’d both have what we want. I’d even leave Eherea so he can be sure I will not interfere with his plans. But Erina needs me for his power trip, and there is nothing I can do—except to rid him of his leverage and get out of here before Myron can do something stupid such as coming to my rescue. He won’t survive it this time.

“Please?” It costs me all I have not to spit at him as I plead to see the one person I call an ally in this Shaelakforsaken palace, but I plead anyway. “I promise to sit tight and smile prettily for the rest of the audience if I can see her for a few minutes afterward.” Desperation has clearly gotten the best of me if I resort to measures such as this, but what other options do I have? What cards can I play when the drug has emptied my sleeves of all tricks and plans?

I lean down even further, not failing to tuck my elbows a bit tighter to my sides to push my breasts higher in the already tight corset, and Guardians bless him, Erina isn’timmune to the sight. It’s enough to sidetrack him long enough that, when I repeat my plea, he dips his chin, reassembling his regal expression as his gaze lifts from my décolletage back to my face. “For a few minutes.” His gaze veers past my shoulder to Ephegos, who will clearly be the person escorting me to wherever they are holding Kaira. “And if she tries anything, cut the woman’s fingers off.”

I feel myself blanch but hold it together as panic creeps through my veins like little bugs leaving poisonous trails.

“Understood?” Erina’s eyes lock on mine, his fingers lingering on my cheek, sliding down the side of my neck, along my shoulder until he clasps my other hand firmly in his.

I nod.

“Now, sit down and smile, Ayna. I have a court to please.” He releases me, already summoning the next noble to the foot of the dais with an idle wave of his hand.

Ephegos stands behind my chair as I half sit, half drop into it, catching my breath, and his hiss of warning is enough for me to assemble my best befuddled-female face.

Sit through another hundred or so nobles, smile at them, give them pleasant phrases, and make googly eyes at their king. I can do that if it means I’ll see Kaira. I might not have a physical knife to ram into Erina’s back, but a metaphorical one is waiting in the form of the mind connection Kaira and I share—and I’m ready to use it in whatever way I need to in order to get my sister out of here.

Ayna

Ephegos isn’tgentle when he ushers me down the familiar stairs to the dungeons. Quite the opposite. By the time I make it to the humid half-light of the place of horror, his claws have pierced into my biceps so often I wonder if he is guiding me down by my arm merely to have a chance to hurt me.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had the chance to speak alone.” The Crow shoves me a few steps ahead of him, his sword at my back, just in case the extra dose of the drug he gave me before dragging me down here isn’t working.

It is. I’m unstable on my feet, and the nausea isback in full force.

“I could go another while without it,” I comment under my breath, only half intending him to hear.

“Oh, but it’s always so pleasant to see you suffer, dear Ayna.” He means it, I can tell by the delight in his tone as he allows the tip of his sword to slice the skin beside my spine where my dress shows the welded scar I carry from my time at Fort Perenis.

As I cringe away, he holds me back with his claws. He doesn’t show them often, probably still denying he’s a Crow rather than a Flame, the traitor, but there is nothing he can do to hide it when his animalistic nature breaks through. Right now is one of those moments when the predator shines just beneath the surface, and Ephegos’s features shift ever so slightly as he loses a hint of control.

“If you’re still pissed Myron got away, you should choose your words better when making bargains with traitors.” It’s a low blow, but if he can relish my pain, I can relish upsetting him. It’s one of the few pleasures I have left, the reminder that Myron got away. That all of them got away—except for Kaira and me.

No one has informed me yet how Kaira ended up in captivity, but I’m determined to find a way out before I ask her. It doesn’t really matter how she ended up here as long as we get out.

“He’s a stubborn bastard.” I don’t imagine the hint of embarrassment in Ephegos’s tone. It’s a slight shift but enough to give away that he realizes he was the one to leave backdoors open in the deal with Herinor.

“Thatwe can agree on.” No one is more surprised than I am that I’d nod at something coming out of Ephegos’s mouth. Iuse the moment to catch him off guard. “What exactlyisyour bargain with him?” Not that I expect him to answer.

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